Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights A Gift of Love for the Beautiful |
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LORD BYRON'S DYING WORDS TO ADA. |
 | Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights |  |
72
LORD BYRON'S DYING WORDS TO ADA.
“Save me, O God! for the waters have come in unto my soul.”
—Psalm LXXI, 1.
—Psalm LXXI, 1.
The ball that wounds the mated dove
Inflicts but little pain;
But bitter is this shaft of love
By which my soul is slain!
For he that trusts the broken reed,
Shall feel it pierce for aye
The heart that must forever bleed—
My little babe, good-bye!
Good-bye, my love! good-bye!
My little babe, good-bye!
Inflicts but little pain;
But bitter is this shaft of love
By which my soul is slain!
For he that trusts the broken reed,
Shall feel it pierce for aye
The heart that must forever bleed—
My little babe, good-bye!
Good-bye, my love! good-bye!
My little babe, good-bye!
As dew-drops, pure and chaste as snow,
In falling, may be changed;
So hearts, oft chilled and racked by wo,
Will soon become estranged!
The dog that meets with constant blows
Will shun his master's eye,
And snap the hand that food bestows—
My little babe, good-bye!
Good-bye, my love! good-bye!
My little babe, good-bye!
In falling, may be changed;
So hearts, oft chilled and racked by wo,
Will soon become estranged!
The dog that meets with constant blows
Will shun his master's eye,
And snap the hand that food bestows—
My little babe, good-bye!
Good-bye, my love! good-bye!
My little babe, good-bye!
Thy years are not enough to know
The sorrows that await!
In Friendship's garb doth Envy go,
To haunt thee, long and late!
Then task the vows that men may give,
As future years roll nigh;
For I am now too sick to live—
My little babe, good-bye!
Good-bye, my love! good-bye!
My little babe, good-bye!
The sorrows that await!
In Friendship's garb doth Envy go,
To haunt thee, long and late!
Then task the vows that men may give,
As future years roll nigh;
For I am now too sick to live—
My little babe, good-bye!
Good-bye, my love! good-bye!
My little babe, good-bye!
73
And though mine eyes may never see
Thy face on earth, my love!
Yet, God will fix some plan for me
To meet my child above!
This consolation soothes my plaint,
And cancels every sigh;
But now my heart doth burst!—I faint!—
My little babe, good-bye!
Good-bye, my love! good-bye!
My little babe, good-bye!
Thy face on earth, my love!
Yet, God will fix some plan for me
To meet my child above!
This consolation soothes my plaint,
And cancels every sigh;
But now my heart doth burst!—I faint!—
My little babe, good-bye!
Good-bye, my love! good-bye!
My little babe, good-bye!
Oak Grove, Ga., June 18, 1831.
| Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights | |